This is a tough week to feel like talking about writing. First, there was Boston and then Waco and because this isn’t a political blog, I won’t get into the disaster called Congress. Writing and a discussion of writing seems misplaced. I’ve tried, but then I see faces and hear stories in my head of real heroes, people who ran toward danger instead of away from it, and I’m humbled.

Human beings are flawed. That’s never more evident than in a week like this one. They are also made of heroic fiber that no one could have imagined in advance. As a writer, how do I create characters with that delicate balance between flawed and heroic?

In a week like this one? Be silent. Watch and listen and hear the stories. Let that germinate.